


Marshmallow Dream

by AnaliseGrey



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marshmallow guns, Marshmallows, SO MUCH FLUFF, mention of Nott, unabashed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 18:19:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: A sweet day in the park.





	Marshmallow Dream

 

Caleb likes weekends.

He likes the rest of the week, too, for the most part, but weekends he likes especially because it means when it’s nice out he gets to go to the park and sit and read under the large willow tree near the pond. The fronds from the tree shade him, but let in enough dappled light to read by without him having to be too fearful of sunburn, and the quiet rustling of the leaves when a breeze blows through from across the water is soothing.

Today, Frumpkin is napping next to him in his harness on their blanket, pressed up against Caleb’s hip, the leash laying across Caleb’s lap while he reads. It’s not too warm, still in the transition from spring to summer, but the sun is shining, and it’s warm enough that the faint breeze over the pond isn’t too cold. All said, it’s a lovely day- calm, peaceful, perfect for reading quietly under the shade of a tree.

The only warning he gets that he’s under attack is a quiet _mrrp_ from Frumpkin and a _fwoomp_ noise from his right.

Something small and soft bounces off the side of his head, startling him out of his reading, and when he looks to see what hit him, he finds a marshmallow sitting on Frumpkin’s side. He and Frumpkin look at each other for a moment, confused. Caleb picks it up carefully; it appears to be a perfectly normal marshmallow, but that doesn’t explain how it got here.

“Sorry, Cay-leb!”

Ah. Jester. That would explain it.

He looks over and sees Jester bouncing over to him, a grin on her face and some sort of plastic gun in her hand, and at her hip is a pouch that appears to be overflowing with marshmallows. While he watches, she plucks one from the pouch and loads it into the gun.

“Hello, Caleb! Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“That is alright.” He looks down to the marshmallow in his hand, shrugs, and pops it in his mouth. He finishes the marshmallow and glances around. “Who are you here, with Jester? I’m assuming you’re not just shooting marshmallows at hapless civilians.”

“Nope!” She says, scanning the area around them, gun at the ready. “I am here with Nott aaaaaaaaand- Molly!” She shoots the gun, and there’s the _fwoomp_ again as a marshmallow goes flying. There’s a brief pause before a familiar voice yelps from behind a low nearby bush. A moment later Molly emerges, tail lashing behind him, his own marshmallow gun in his hand.

“Was that really necessary, Jester?

“Yep! That is the whole point of this, Molly, is to hit each other with the marshmallows.”

Molly’s gaze shifts over to Caleb, and Caleb’s ears heat under the scrutiny.

“Well, I think I’m going to sit this next round out, take a quick rest.” At Jester’s pout, Molly laughs and gestures her over, speaking in a stage whisper. “But I think that if you went and looked around the back of the pool shed, you might be able to find a certain small green combatant.”

“Oh!” Jester’s tail perks, then swishes delightedly as she looks over in the direction of the community pool. “Got it. Thank you!”

She takes off in the direction of the pool shed, and Molly turns, moving to sit next to Caleb, dropping down to sit with his back against the tree, setting his marshmallow gun aside and giving Frumpkin a pat on the head. He’s dressed relatively calmly, for Molly- his maroon jeans are embroidered with a myriad of colorful designs, and his t-shirt is emblazoned with the logo of the band Yasha is in. It seems the activity of chasing Jester and Nott around has affected him, somewhat; Caleb glances at the light sheen of sweat visible at Molly’s temples, his throat, the collarbones exposed by the low ‘v’ of his shirt. He makes sure to look away before Molly can catch him, but the flush that had started at his ears is working its way down his neck, and Caleb curses his fair skin, hoping Molly is too distracted to notice.

At the moment, Molly has his head leaned back against the tree, his eyes closed as the breeze off the pond ruffles his hair. He’s the picture of peaceful enjoyment, his lips curled up in a small smile, and not for the first time, Caleb is struck with the desire to kiss him.

It happens every once in awhile- Molly will laugh, wholly and unreservedly, or something will delight him and he’ll grin, wide with a flash of fang. Sometimes it’s something as small as Frumpkin making a cute noise, and Molly will focus his attention on the cat, a soft smile twitching his lips as he scritches him between the ears. It’s all of these and more, and each time Caleb thinks how _easy_ it would be, how easy to just lean in, to cup Molly’s jaw with his hand, to pull him in and kiss him. He thinks he’d love to know what Molly’s skin feels like, whether the inked feathers on his face will feel different, wants to trace the delicate points of Molly’s ears with his fingertips and commit their shape to memory.

It would be easy, but not smart, not advisable.

He doesn’t think he could bear it to see the rejection on Molly’s face. He knows Molly would be kind about it, Molly’s _always_ kind, at least with him, but he doesn’t think he could stand to see the pity on his face, doesn’t think he could handle the distancing that would inevitably occur. First and foremost, Molly is his friend, and nothing is worth jeopardizing that.

After a few moments, Molly stretches, his tail quivering with it just like Frumpkin’s does, and Caleb can’t help but smile. Molly twists in place, sighing as his spine pops quietly, then droops back against the tree, but leaned to the side so his shoulder is pressed against Caleb’s, a solid line of warmth. He sighs happily, resting his head on Caleb’s shoulder.

“This is nice.”

Caleb is inclined to agree; it _is_ nice.

They sit like that for awhile, and Caleb thinks it’s the quietest he’s ever seen Molly; he’d be worried, but Molly’s a relaxed weight against him, his tail flicking gently almost in-time with Frumpkin’s. Caleb lifts his book again, moving slowly so as not to disturb Molly, and for a time that’s all there is- the words on the page, the soft breeze in his hair, and the comforting pressure of Molly leaning against his side. At a point, Frumpkin gets up and relocates to Molly’s lap, curling in a bun, and Molly scoots closer until they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip to thigh.

It’s been almost a half hour when Molly shifts, yawning and snuggling closer, nuzzling at Caleb’s shoulder and resting a hand on Caleb’s arm. His touch is warm through the thin fabric of Caleb’s shirt, the prick of his claws light enough they barely dimple the cotton.

“Caleb?”

He pulls himself out of his reading, mind still part-way in the story, though it’s quickly pulled the rest of the way out when he leans back a little and glances down to see Molly looking back up at him intently, his red eyes shining in the afternoon light.

“ _Ja_ , Molly?”

“Can I kiss you?”

For all that the words are spoken softly, gently, they completely throw Caleb’s world off its axis. It’s all he can do to just sit and blink for a moment. He jolts out of it when Molly pulls back, looking uncertain.

“I mean, of course you don’t _have_ to. I don’t- I would never make you do something you don’t want to.”

“Mollymauk-”

“We can just pretend this whole thing didn’t happen, right? I really value your friendship, Caleb, and I don’t want anything to change-”

“ _Molly_.”

Molly’s mouth snaps shut, still trying to back away, and Caleb decides that’s unacceptable. He sets his book down to his other side, making himself hold eye contact with Molly. It’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s outweighed by his need for Molly to understand that this is okay; it’s worth it.

He lifts the hand that’s between them, brings it up to Molly’s jaw, and while Caleb’s hands are warm, Molly’s skin is warmer. It’s just as soft as he’s imagined, and when he rubs his thumb over one of the inked feathers, he’s delighted to discover a slight change in texture. Molly’s eyes are wide, staring, and Caleb isn’t quite sure he’s breathing. For a moment they just stare at each other, frozen, then Caleb gathers his courage and leans forward to press his lips to Molly’s.

They’re soft, just like Molly’s skin, and this close it’s easy to let himself float in the warm spice scent that lingers around Molly like a pleasant cloud, easy to lean in towards Molly as his hand lands on the back of Caleb’s neck and squeezes.

After a minute Molly pulls back, and Caleb sways toward him like a flower seeking the sun. Molly huffs a laugh and darts back in, pressing a quick kiss to Caleb’s lips before resting his forehead against Caleb’s, his claw-tips gently scritching against the back of Caleb’s neck. Caleb gives a shiver, then a sigh, and doesn’t fight the upward turn of his lips.

“Hey.” Molly’s voice is fond, quiet, barely more than the puff of air it produces across Caleb’s lips, and Caleb’s smile widens in response.

“Hey yourself, Mollymauk.”

He can’t quite see Molly’s mouth from this angle, but he has a pretty good view of how the corners of his eyes crinkle, can feel the brief tightening of Molly’s hand on his neck in response.

“So, I would love to continue this, but I think this isn’t the right place,” Molly whispers against his mouth. “Any moment now Jester and Nott are going to realize they haven’t seen us in a bit, and then it’s all over.”

Caleb snorts, but nods slightly, knowing it’s true, even as he feels disappointment begin to settle in his stomach.

“If you’re amenable,” Molly continues, “Might I suggest we grab some takeout and head back to my place? Maybe watch a movie?”

“ _Ja_.” Caleb answers without any sort of input from his brain, and it takes him a moment to catch up to what he’s actually said. Once he realizes it, he swallows, throat suddenly dry, but knows he has no intention of changing his answer. “ _Ja_ , Mollymauk, that would be nice.”

Molly grins, fangs flashing, and pulls back the rest of the way, picking up Frumpkin from where he’s still settled on Molly’s lap. The cat gives an annoyed _mrrp_ at being disturbed, and Molly presses a gentle kiss to the top of his head before handing him back over to Caleb and stands. After brushing his jeans off, Molly holds a hand out to Caleb, his expression hopeful.

Caleb lifts Frumpkin to climb back up to his shoulders, grabs his book, then takes Molly’s hand, letting the tiefling help pull him up from the ground. He’s still wrapping his mind around the fact that this is _real_ , that his hand is in Molly’s as they start to head toward the walkway, Nott and Jester’s voices just barely audible from the far side of the park.

He _kissed_ Molly-

And Molly _kissed him back_.

He looks down at the ground, trying to hide the outrageous smile he can feel spreading across his face. When he looks up again it’s to catch Molly looking at him, a dopey smile on his face as well. Caleb gives Molly’s hand another squeeze, and together they head forward along the path.

**Author's Note:**

> Want to yell, ask a question, or just say hello? Come find me on tumblr at [Analisegrey](http://analisegrey.tumblr.com/) or on twitter at the same handle.


End file.
